when you turned and walked away
by what a lovely way to burn
Summary: — it was an accident. it wasn't his fault. harry knew that. but it didn't stop him.


_**author's notes:** written for that one slytherin girl through the monthly one-shot exchange on hpfc. prompts will be at the bottom_.

* * *

 **when you turned and walked away**

* * *

Harry had no idea how it had happened. One moment, he and Malfoy were muttering expletives and calling one another names under their breath after being paired up by Slughorn for a month-long Potions experiment, the next — or so it seemed — he was kissing Draco in the boys' bathroom.

The entire story of how they'd gotten into that position was very long, very complicated, and full of many complaints to their friend about the other. The shortcut version was Draco had been told by his father to befriend "that Potter boy," he didn't do it, his father got pissed, and Draco blamed Harry for the _Crucio_ he got. His attraction to Harry continued to grow, but he continued to mask it with hexes and name-calling so as to not let his father know.

This all came spilling out between kisses, punctuated frequently by "you complete —" _smooch, nibble, moan_ _"—_ bastard!"

And that was the beginning.

•

Their relationship was pretty much only physical. Harry gave Draco one of the DA coins that he'd convinced Hermione to only connect with his, and the blond would message him if he needed to release stress. It was sixth year; tension was running high at Hogwarts.

For a while, that was enough. But Harry's heart was in danger. Draco wasn't as huge of a spoilt brat as he'd once thought; he was actually nice underneath his tough bully exterior, though still a prat, and Harry liked him this way. He liked the heated arguments they had, which almost always ended in their clothes crumpled beneath them on the floor. He enjoyed the snarky, sarcastic comments that Draco made in Potions as they worked together — they would sound mean to anyone who didn't know Draco well, but they were all true, if worded a bit harshly.

And that was a problem.

•

The stress only grew as the weeks flew by. Harry knew Draco was a Death Eater: he'd seen the tattoo writhing on Draco's arm even as Draco himself writhed on top of the emerald green sheets of his bed. There was something coming up. Something big. Something dangerous.

But Draco couldn't tell him.

"Why not?" Harry had protested. "I deserve to know; I'm your —"

He broke off, blinking. What were they, exactly?

"You're my fuck buddy," Draco said bluntly. "You don't ' _deserve_ ' to know shit. I can't tell you, I've already said that. Why won't you listen?"

After they parted ways that evening, Harry sat in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, just letting the ambient noise wash over him. They couldn't _just_ be fuck buddies...could they?

Harry tossed and turned at night, never completely succumbing to sleep. He couldn't. The question played through his mind on repeat. Draco's words were cutting, but he was just stressed...right? They all were.

Harry refused to believe otherwise.

•

The feelings only grew stronger, even as the bond between them wavered toward the end of sixth year. Harry didn't know what to think. Dumbledore was dead. Draco hadn't been the one to kill him, but only because he was a coward.

Harry told him as such, and it showed how much the past year had forced Draco to mature when he just cast his grey eyes downward and took the verbal lashing. They had one last time together, slower than usual — it could almost be called making love — before parting ways for the summer.

Draco knew nothing of Harry's plans, and he intended to keep it that way.

•

The next time they really interacted with one another was during the final battle. Draco lost his mask — not that it had helped much with his distinctive platinum-blond hair on full display — while dodging a curse from Macnair and throwing a curse back at him. He'd never liked Walden. Macnair dodged all but the edge of the spell and fired back. An _Avada_ whizzed past Draco, hitting Macnair square in the chest. The stocky man collapsed where he stood.

"Potter." The din from around them seemed to fade into the distance. "Never took you for a killing kind of guy."

Harry's jawline was set firmly; his face grimy and hair matted to his forehead with blood. He looked about as good as Draco felt. "This is war," he replied evenly. "People die."

Draco jerked his head in recognition. "We'd best get back to the battle," he said finally, breaking the silence between them. "Take care of yourself, Harry."

If Harry was surprised by not being murdered on the spot, even by his ex-boyfriend, he didn't show it. Instead, he inclined his head and said, "You too, Draco."

They turned and went their separate ways, jumping back into the fight. But Draco had gained something more to fight for.

His life.

•

The battle was over. The Light had prevailed.

But at what cost?

Fred was dead. Dennis Creevey was dead. Lavender Brown was dead. Severus Snape.

The Weasleys were gathered around a body, and Harry felt sick to his stomach. Lump in his throat, he approached.

Fred.

George was on the ground, hugging his twin's lifeless body to his chest, tears running down his cheeks, leaving dirty trails on his face. Ginny and Molly were clinging to one another, sobs wracking their bodies. Arthur was standing off to the side, his face showing signs of tears. Bill, Charlie, and Percy huddled together, not a single one dry-eyed.

Harry fell to his knees and retched. How many others had died?

"TONKS!"

The piercing cry was torn from the throat of — oh gods, no. Not Remus.

Harry stood so quickly he almost retched again, but stayed upright and walked as if in a daze to Remus' side.

Remus knelt beside his wife, holding her hand. Her hair was a surprised jade colour with tinges of her usual bubblegum-pink. Sirius was at his side and both men were openly sobbing, holding one another tightly, their tears mixing as they grieved for their friend, wife, and cousin.

"Who did this?" he heard Sirius ask through gasping breaths.

Remus shook his head, uncut hair swinging from side to side. "I — I don't k-know." He hiccupped.

"She was tough, Moony. She didn't go down without a fight. Your son can grow up knowing that she was a hero." Remus didn't look convinced. Sirius held his shoulders and shook him. "Hey. We'll get through this together. You and me. Okay?"

Harry couldn't bear this. It was as if his heart had split apart, a piece going to each person who had died to help him bring down Voldemort.

"Harry." He turned. Draco stood there, looking like hell, hair light-brown from dirt. Rivulets of blood ran down both sides of his face. "We need to talk."

•

"I killed her." Draco's voice was dull, emotionless. His eyes were unfocused. "I killed my cousin. I killed the mother of a one-month-old _baby."_

"How?" It didn't sound like a question. Harry couldn't even recognise that it was him speaking at all.

"We were battling. Dolohov cornered me. She tried to help me." He was staring over Harry's left shoulder, at nothing. "Dolohov cast the Killing curse. I ducked, and it — it ricocheted and hit her. I killed him and — ran."

It wasn't his fault. Harry knew that. But it didn't stop him from taking out his pain on Draco. "I love you —" Draco's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Harry spoke over him "— but I don't think I even know who you really are."

Draco's mouth snapped shut. He didn't say anything for a minute.

And then he turned and walked away.

•

Harry hated the funeral. He'd attended far too many in his lifetime. That wasn't the worst part, though.

"Sometimes," Remus said, voice cracking, "I feel like she is still by my side. Watching me from a distance. Loving me from afar. She was my entire life." He choked up but gave his best shot at a watery smile. "Let us take a moment to remember Nymphadora Tonks."

Everyone bowed their head in silence.

No. The worst part was what Remus said. _I feel like she is still by my side. Watching me from a distance. Loving me from afar_.

It was too similar to how he felt about Draco.

The worst part was that he felt like he had died, too.

He bowed his head belatedly, eyes squeezing shut tightly.

•

He didn't see a blond head lift and search the crowd with grey eyes before dropping again.

* * *

 _ **prompts:**_

 _(pairing)_ _draco/harry_

 _(pairing) remus/sirius [the stirrings of it, anyway]_

 _(character) nymphadora tonks_

 _(genre) angst_

 _(dialogue) "i love you, but i don't think i even know who you really are"_

 _(dialogue) "sometimes i feel like she/he is still by my side"_

 _(colour) jade_


End file.
